Bit of a Giggle
by TimeLord98
Summary: Sherlock is sulking and John has a brilliant plan to cheer him up, but he needs Molly's help.


_Molly, Sherlock's in one of his moods again. I've got an idea to cheer him up but I'll need your help. Come down to Baker Street. I'll fill you in when you get here. –JW_

Molly quirked an eyebrow at the rather cryptic text she had just received from John. It wasn't unusual for Sherlock to be in a sour mood, but John would typically ignore him or go to Sarah's. The army doctor was definitely plotting something and Molly's curiosity got the better of her. She switched out her lab coat for her pink scarf and tan pea coat, and left St. Bart's, attempting to hail a cab.

John rolled his eyes at the lump of blue robe and curly brown hair currently sulking on the sofa. Sherlock Holmes, world's only consulting detective. More like world's only consulting five-year-old. How long had he been like this? Three hours? Felt more like a week. John wondered why he even bothered with this ridiculous man-child. He sighed and looked at the clock sitting on the mantle next to Billy the Skull. 6:30. Molly should be arriving any minute now. John grinned, remembering the plan he had formed while Sherlock had been brooding. It was either the best idea he had ever had, or the most fatal. Possibly both. You never could tell with Sherlock. Moments later, the doorbell rang and John ran downstairs to answer it before Sherlock could question. He found himself face to face with Molly Hooper, her cheeks rosy from the chilly weather.

"So what's all this about a brilliant idea?" she asked, stepping inside and shedding her coat and scarf.

"Sherlock is upstairs sulking so I thought it would be a fantastic idea to surprise him," John replied, grinning impishly.

"Oh? And how are we going to surprise him?"

"We're gonna tickle him."

Molly blinked. She was definitely not expecting that. John just stood there, looking at her with the expression of a twelve-year-old boy who had just replaced his sister's sandwich with something far less appetizing.

"If I get punched, I'm going to dump one of Sherlock's old petri dishes in your jam jar," Molly said flatly.

"That's a risk I'm willing to take."

John led Molly upstairs, finding the consulting detective still pouting on the sofa. It really was a rather silly sight. Sherlock was sprawled out on his back, moaning pitifully every so often, his mop of curls forming something of a demented halo around his head. Molly had to stifle a giggle as she and John moved over to him. Sherlock didn't notice them until their heads were hovering over his.

"Ah, Molly. John. Please tell me you are here because you have a case for me. If that is not so, then kindly bugger off."

His face was contorted into a childish pout and Molly rolled her eyes at him.

"We've got something better than a case," John said, trying his hardest not to break out into a devilish grin and failing miserably.

Sherlock let out a sigh of irritation.

"Please. There is not a single thing you could have in mind that would be more interesting than a nice murd-AH!"

Sherlock's sentence was cut off as Molly took advantage of the distraction and began to tickle him. The detective writhed, laughing hysterically as he tried to escape, but Molly was persistent. It wasn't long before John joined the attack and Sherlock was at their mercy. Yet, soon after the initial onslaught, Sherlock managed to pull away from his two friends, breathing heavily and returning their manic grins with a death glare.

"This…means…war." he said in between breaths.

Molly and John exchanged panicked looks before fleeing from Sherlock's outstretched arms. It didn't take long for Sherlock to catch up with Molly and the pathologist had just enough time to see the huge grin on the detective's face before succumbing to the assault of tickles. Before they knew it, a full blown tickle war had broken out and the trio was laughing and rolling on the floor, completely out of breath, but having more fun than they had had all month. Mrs Hudson had peeked in at one point to see what all the commotion was, but the three friends didn't take notice, and the old landlady just smiled and left them to their childish game, for it was the happiest she had seen them in a long time.


End file.
